


Self Help With Dean Winchester and Special Guest Sammy!

by Formattingme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel and Drug Use, Castiel and Mental Health Issues, Castiel in the Bunker, Dean and Drug Use, Destiel - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Human Castiel, M/M, Marijuana, Men of Letters Bunker, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-23
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-02-26 19:13:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2663183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Formattingme/pseuds/Formattingme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel has been having a hard time since he became human, developing mental diseases and bad habits. Can they pull him out of the sinking ship that is his mind?</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts).



> Prologue curtesy of Castiel

I find my thoughts at 4 am to be troubling, as they have been for years. It was getting better for a while. But here I am, wishing and begging my mind and body to just SLEEP, but I also know that my pleading is in vein as I stare blankly at the ceiling. The seas of my mind have become ravenous hurricanes and tsunamis crashing around in my mind, tearing away every cell in my brain, demanding to be attended too as I close my eyes. Just another day.  
After a while, I look at the clock, 4:14, wishing that at least the time could go faster, rather than drone on until morning. I check my phone, no texts, no calls, because who in their right mind is up this early? Besides me, that is, but then- I am not in my right state of mind. I’ve been going crazy lately, whether from boredom or sadness or both. Despite all that’s happened, my demeanor remains, at least I hope I portray myself in this way, cheerful. My eyes flicker to the clock once more, but it’s still not even 4:30. I groan out loud knowing nobody can actually here me alone in my room. I get restless, and scan the room for something interesting to do. Upon seeing Sam’s laptop, which he left in here earlier when he was showing me some video about some new fitness atrocity he’s gotten himself into, I lazily crawl off my bed and grab it, settling back in cross-legged with a moat of fluffy blankets Dean gave me around me. The Macbook sits on my lap and I come to the opening page. I choose the “Castiel” user-which had fluffy wings as the picture,which Dean reasoned, ‘you were an angel, duh!’- Sam specially made for me and type in the enchain word I use as my password. Nobody has seen my account, so I can put whatever I want as my background. Last time I was on this thing, which was maybe three days ago at most, I changed it to a picture of a kitten I found on the internet. It has chocolate colored fur and beautiful green eyes, it reminds me of something I just can’t put my finger on. Hmm. I click on the internet icon and choose Google, which is first to pop in the selection when I hit the, so called, ‘search box.’ I type in ‘strange death’ in the search bar, changing the results from most popular to most recent. The least I can do is find a case. As I search deeper into it, I find no means of a case anywhere. In defeat I decide to take a walk to the library to correct some encyclopedias information with what really happened.  
I sneak through the eerie bunker halls until I find the library and settle down with one of the men of letters doctrines on moses and the plagues and immediately start crossing out the false and putting in the truth. Moses had gone up to the mountain of Ho’reb to find grazing area for his sheep. That’s when he saw the bush on fire, but the bush wasn’t burnt in the slightest. God’s miracles will never cease to amaze me, even if I could never find him. I devour book after book until I hear footsteps. At first, Sam walks right past the library, but the takes a second look upon realizing I was there.  
“Have you been up all night?” he ponders in a worried tone.  
“What time is it?”  
“7am…”   
“Then yes, I have been up all night,” I acknowledge, closing my book softly.  
“You should really get some rest, this isn’t good for your health. That’s important as a human, you have to take care of yourself.”  
But I cannot fathom why I would be worth taking care of.


	2. Keeping Secrets

Now the boys had learned long ago that keeping secrets only gets you in more trouble than you started out with. In fact, keeping secrets can start the dang apocalypse. Castiel had too learned what consequences could come from keeping things from those who love you, yet he could never allow himself to reveal his emotions to the boys. Dean and Sam are no prize example of talking about feelings. Dean has been trying harder to get Cas to confide in him now that he’s human. Sure he could talk to Sam, but then Dean wouldn’t have him all to himself. He sends Sammy away on hunts as much as he can without looking suspicious, always staying behind to look after Cas. He wasn’t sure why he was so protective of Cas, but he could sense something was going on with him recently. Due to his concern, he sent his little brother on an easy ghost hunt in California, far from the bunker. He didn’t mean to be selfish with Cas’ time, but all the same he knocks on the former angels door.

“Dean?” Cas’ face lights up with anticipation.

“Yeah man, it’s me. Sammy went out on a hunt this morning. He insisted we stay here,” he pushes open the cracked door and sees Cas sitting on the edge of his bed, looking over a newspaper Sam brought in from town before he left this morning. “I made you some tea,” the older Winchester smiles proudly as he sets it down next to Cas on the nightstand.

“Would you like to sit?” he asks, motioning Dean to sit next to him on the bed. Dean readily obeys and plops down.

“How ya holdin’ up?”

“I am…fine, Dean. Just tired.” The hunter sighs and hangs his head. He couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under the poor souls eyes, and how hunched over a sleep deprived his been lately. It made his gut wrench.

“Yeah, uhm, Sammy told me about that. Why haven’t you been sleeping lately?”

There was a moment of panic in the eyes of the fallen angel, for how is he to tell Dean that his self loathing has gotten so bad, so pathetic that he can’t even sleep. To make it worse, when he does sleep, he dreams only of the ones he’s killed or hurt in the past. His most reassuring dream is one where Dean is grasping for life about to fall into the cage and there’s nothing he can do to save him. He’d never tell a soul, but it’s that dream that has him waking up sobbing and screaming. Luckily, he thinks, the bunker is so large that no one hears his screams. But Dean hears them, he just hasn’t found a way to bring it up in conversation quite yet, but God he’s trying.

“Uh, well,” he stumbles over his words trying desperately to think of a response, “I’m thinking it’s because I used to not sleep at all.”

“Humans need sleep, it’s not good for you to be up all night every night. Promise me you’ll try harder to fall asleep?” he pleads, his big green eyes staring hopefully into Cas’.

“I can try,” he agrees, looking anywhere but at the hunter.

“Well, you haven’t eaten yet, have you?” Cas shakes his head weakly in response.

“Alright, come with me,” he coos, motioning him to follow. They hop into Baby and Dean speeds into town to a small diner run by some of the locals.

“Best pies and burgers in a 50 mile radius,” he announces proudly and he parks the Impala. Cas follows him like a puppy into the small building that read ‘Friendly’s Grill.’ The hostess is a pretty brunette that strikes Dean the second she walks up, but he shakes it off, not wanted to be rude to Cas. They get a window seat, where their view is the shiny black 69’, which Dean couldn’t possibly fathom to complain about. Dean sits across from Cas waiting for the waitress to come take their order. The young lady comes up to the table with a smirk on your face.

“Will this be together or separate?” she asks wickedly.

“Together,” Dean respond simply before realizing what she meant. The girl holds back a laugh as she asks for their order, which is given with a red face. When she walks away, Cas tilts his head in confusion.

“What did she mean by that?” he asks innocently. Dean’s face only grows hotter.

“Uh, she meant if we wanted separate checks, but you don’t have any money so, I said together." Cas nods, taking the hunters words to heart like he always does. There’s an awkward silence that follows. Dean purses his lips before opening his mouth to speak, but Cas has the same idea.

“Sorry, you go first,” the angel says weakly. It hits Dean like a brick, forcing him to catch his breath.

“No, you go ahead. I want to listen to what you have to say,” he insists, so Castiel sighs and looks up at him.

“I was going to ask if I could possibly take my food to go, I’m not very hungry.”

“You’re never hungry. You have to force yourself to eat man, please,” The burger gets set down in front of them by the waitress. “Eat.”

Cas huffs and picks up his burger, and empty feeling rushing over him. Why eat? What’s worth sustaining? He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind. He takes a small bite and takes an overly long time to chew it before taking another. It makes him slightly sick to eat, it’s not something his body is used to. He stays in his room all day unless Dean pulls him out. He only ever leaves the bleak bedroom unless to use the bathroom, never to eat. Sometimes Dean will leave breakfast in front of the door and knock. He knows Cas can hear it, he knows he’s awake, but for the most part he’ll pass by his room hours later to see the food untouched. He would pick it up and mope back to the kitchen to clean, hoping tomorrow would be better.

“So, what’s been on your mind lately? You’re always just locked away in your room an-“

“DEAN. I’m fine, can you please stop asking these questions? Can we just go back to the bunker already?” There was an emptiness in Cas’ eyes that shatters Dean’s soul. He’s fed up, all he wants is to help but Cas won’t let him!

“If you’re so fine then why do you never eat, huh? An-and why do you never sleep? Or wake up screaming in the middle of the night!? That’s not fine Cas, you’re not fine! Please just let me help you!” Dean was a bit too harsh, and he can tell by the hurt puppy face the fallen angel was making.

“Take me home,” Cas demands.

“Cas I’m sorry that came out wrong pl-“

“Take. Me. Home.” Dean hangs his head in defeat and they sit in silence the whole way back to the bunker.


	3. Making Cookies

The following day comes around and Cas hasn’t even left his room to pee. Dean paces in circles in front of his door, working up the courage to knock. When he finally does, he gets no answer.  
“Cas?” he calls.  
“You awake buddy?” he tries again.  
He paces for a minute, hoping he didn’t screw things up too bad. He knocks again.  
“Cas man, I’m really sorry. Just talk to me, please!” Cas sighs and wipes his eyes, trying to make it look like he was fine. He clears his shaky voice before weakly calling out; “it’s unlocked, Dean.”  
He enters quietly, and Cas keeps his face turned from him. Dean studies his surroundings, the tissues shoved into the trash can but obviously freshly used, his soaked sleeves that he clearly used to wipe his eyes…  
“Hey Cas..” he starts, slowly moving toward him. Cas refuses to show Dean his face, looking anywhere but at him. “Can ya look at me?” the hunter coos, sitting next to him on the bed, gently putting his hand on the other mans shoulder. Cas just shakes his head no.  
“I know you’re mad… but I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”  
Cas nods, sniffing as quietly as he can make it, but Dean still hears. He pretends to not have noticed, however.  
“How bout you come watch some TV with me?” he offers sweetly.  
Cas shakes “no.”  
“Uh, well, do you wanna go for a drive or something?”  
He shakes “no.”  
“Cas, please look at me,” he breathes, but his breath hitches when he sees Cas hesitantly look over with puffy red bloodshot eyes. He knew it. Castiel spent all last night and this morning crying. Cas looks back down at his hands, trying his best to hold back another tear. Surely, he thinks, Dean will see me as pathetic now. Cas is taken but utter surprise when the hunter wraps him in his arms tightly. Cas lays his head on Deans shoulder, then all at once begins to sob.  
“I’m-I-I am so-s-sorry,” he whimpers between sobs. Dean pulls hi m in tighter, so that Cas is completely leaning his weight on Dean.  
“Shh, shh,” Dean tries, “Look, I know it’s hard now, but it gets better, I promise it gets better.”  
“Can…can I have some privacy?” he whimpers. Dean shoots back, hurt and stomps out of the room. But he has another plan in mind. He sneaks out of the bunker and drives to the nearest Wal-Mart. He gets flour, eggs, sugar, vanilla extract- all the essentials.

While Dean is out, Castiel curls in a ball, a sobbing wreck.   
“How could I be so stupid?” Castiel thinks. “He was holding me, all I’ve ever wanted, just to have his arms around me and I pushed him away. He just wanted to help. Now he’s gonna think I’m a sobbing pathetic loser and he won’t be wrong. I was so close and now I’m so far.”

The hunter skips giddily into the kitchen and gets all of the ingredients and mixers and such out on the counter preparing for what hoped would make it up to Cas. He struts with a cocky smile through the halls, knocking loudly on Castiel’s door. It takes him a while, but just when Deans lifts his fist to knock again, the fallen angel opens the door. Dean opens his fists with an “Ayyy! Look who’s awake!”  
“What is it Dean?”  
“I have a surprise for you! Follow me!”  
Before Cas can protest, Dean grabs his hand and yanks him down the hallway eagerly to the kitchen.  
“Dean…I don’t understand…” Cas grumbles with a furrowed brow. Dean smiles grandly and hands him a whisk from the counter.   
“We,” he puts his arm around his shoulder and points between the two of them, “are making cookies.”

Cas puts his hands under the warm water, rinsing off the bubbly green soap. The ends of his sleeves get soaked by the water, but Cas doesn’t seem to notice. Dean cracks two eggs into a bowl with water and oil.  
“Can you measure me out a cup and a half of flour?”  
The new human does as he says, but not without spilling flour all over his pajama shirt and sweat pants.  
“Here, let me help you with that,” Dean offers, starting to take of Cas shirt.  
“No wait! It’s cold in here, Dean. I do not want to take off my shirt.” Dean throws his hands up in defeat and continues the cookies.  
“You’ve never complained before. What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing, I’m sorry.”  
Dean hangs his head for a moment, then takes a spoonful of cookie dough and puts it up to Cas’ lips. He hesitates, but allows himself to take a bite. Dean stares warmly, and Cas does the same.  
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” a humorous voice remarks in the background. Dean picks up a dish towel and throws it.  
“Shut up Sam. What are you doing home so early?”  
“Turns out there wasn’t a case there after all!” The younger brother taunts.  
“Sam, can I talk to you for a second?” Dean grumbles, pulling the laughing younger hunter out into the hallway then down to his room.  
Dean paces back and forth, impatient. The more he leaves Cas waiting, the less Cas will trust whatever story he makes up to explain this. He hates lying to him, but he can’t even except what’s he feeling to himself.  
“Dean, what did I just walk in to?” Sam scoffs, laughter escaping though he tries to hold it back.  
“Oh shut up it was nothing like that?” He hopes he’s not blushing as he tries to explain himself.  
“Then what was it like?”  
“We were making cookies. That’s all. Cas had a rough night.”  
“A rough night, eh?” Sam nudges Dean with his elbow.  
“No, he was up all night crying, I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“Oh, oh my god. What happened?”  
“I just said I don’t want to talk about it.”  
“That still doesn’t explain why you were feeding him and staring romantically into his eyes.” Sam makes kissy faces at Dean so he shoves him backwards. “Look Dean, I’ve known for a while. I don’t care that you feel this way…”  
“I’m not gay!” He huffs, crossing his defined arms.  
“Dean…”  
“I’m done with this conversation.”  
“Why was there no case? You just sent me away to a false address all the way across the country for no reason.”  
“I got the intel from another hunter, so blame him.”  
“Oh yeah? Who!?”  
“Garth.”  
“Oh yeah right.”  
“Look, Cas is waiting for me, he’s gonna get suspicious-“  
“Of what?”  
“Nothing never mind.”  
“Fine, go see your boyfriend Dean.”  
“Shut. Up.” He demands as he slams the door behind him, returning to Cas who had figured out how to put the cookies in balls on the pan. I popped them in the over and sat at the table with Cas waiting for the timer to go off. Cas’ chair was right up against Deans, and it made him anxious. Anxious that Sam would see and call him out again. Anxious that Sam will tell Cas how he thinks he feels, because true or not, Cas doesn’t need that right now. He already distances himself from the boys, and Dean misses him dearly. Cas lays his head down weakly on the older hunters shoulder, just in time for Sam to walk in with a smirk painted on his face. Dean becomes bright red at this, but also doesn’t want to tell Cas to get up.  
“You better watch the cookies,” the youngest in the room says with a grin. “If you wait to long, it might turn out bad.” Sam was hoping Dean would catch on to what he meant, and he does. He already knows this though, but he also knows that there’s no way the angel could ever feel that way about him, it doesn’t matter, he thinks, I’m only into chicks. But even still, he stares longingly at Cas.


	4. FREAK OUT!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean saves the day (as always.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this took a couple of days, but I got the inspiration and I just had to write this so I hope you enjoy.

Things are always different between Dean and Cas when Sammy returns to the bunker. Sam notices too, but nobody says a word about it. He feels bad that he is the reason for their awkwardness. Though at the same time, it was hilarious to him that they make such fools of themselves with out the other even realizing. The other day for instints;  
“Hey Cas, hey Sam!” Dean says as he settles into a chair in the kitchen. It was obvious that he wanted to get coffee, but Cas was standing in the way.  
“Good morning Dean,” Cas chimes in an awkwardly deep voice. Sam chuckles being his newspaper. Dean notices but chooses to ignore Sam’s ignorance. Finally, he takes the leap and gets up to get coffee. Sam watches with a grin as wide as his eyes as Dean first try to reach behind Cas with a slightly red face. Cas being the big dumb (fallen) angel he is, doesn’t even notice or care to move. Redder still are his cheeks as his stares hopefully at Cas, silently egging him on to move. Cas smiles dumbly. Sam accidentally laughs a bit too hard and Dean glares at him before returning to Cas and doing what he should have done in the first place.  
“Uh, Cas, uhm, can you…scooch?” he whimpers. At this point his face is the equivalence of a tomato in color. Cas nods politely and steps to the side, clearly taking no note of the rose color. Sam’s practically in tears which earns him a punch in the arm when Dean returns to his seat.  
*  
Cas sits on the edge of the bed staring broodingly at the wall. Just thinking. Thinking about where his father might be, and recounting all the angels names that he killed. And all the angels that fell he had to add to the list. They were his friends once, his family. He thinks about hunger and sleeping and all these human things he does now and he’s scared all the time and he’s anxious and incredibly depressed and he thinks how the brothers will be disappointed in him if they find out and he doesn’t know what to do and that makes him spirit into thinking that no one should ever have to deal with. He thinks about how disgusting and awful he is. He thinks how worthless and pathetic he is. He thinks that everything he does is wrong and how he should just- just- just fucking kill himself. But somehow his thoughts always lead back to Dean. Thinking about Dean always lifted his spirits, that is, unless he was thinking about the fact that he will never be with him. And he is so amazing and precious and just, PREFECT. Theres nothing the hunter can do that could ever change Castiel’s mind. But he can never ever tell him how he feels he just bottles it inside until it rips him apart and tears his delicate human mind to shreds. If Dean ever knew this it would kill him and he’d blame himself, and Cas knows this. He’s convinced himself this is why he doesn’t open up to the man he has such a profound bond with. Really, he’s just embarrassed and afraid of rejection. He’s tried to convince himself otherwise, but it all comes down to the same conclusion. He’s in love with him, and it’s killing him.  
By this point his head is in his hands, occasionally running one through his hair and sighing deeply. He promises himself he’s not gonna cry, the tightness in his heart staring again, only this time it’s so piercing he groans and clutches his chest. Breathe seems to have escaped him and he’s hyperventilating, and tears begin to fall. His dark thoughts are creeping and oozing through his brain, convincing him of the worst thing that could happen- what if the boys kick him out again? What if Dean hates him again, what if he screws everything up again? What if-  
“Cas- you in there?” an all to familiar voice calls. But he can’t answer, he’s sobbing and he can’t breathe and he’s in so much pain. “Cas, come out man, you’ve been in there since yesterday…” Cas can’t help but groan in pain as another spine tingling sharp pain erupts through his chest. Dean freaks out and kicks in the door, and upon seeing Cas, rushes to his side. He sees all the signs, Sam used to have them when he was a teenager. Anxiety attack. Dean rubs the fallen angels back and leans up on him, laying his head on his shoulder lovingly. Granted, he’d never done that when he calmed Sam down, but this wasn’t Sam. “Cas honey, you gotta slow down you’re breathing. You’re okay, you’re just having an anxiety attack, okay? Baby, you have to know that you’re okay, I’ve got you. I’m never gonna let anything happen to you. You watched over me when I needed it now I’m gonna watch out for you. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you.” He extends his arm fully around the angel, pulling him in to sob on his shoulder. His breathing is calmer now, he’s regaining the feeling in his hands. Dean’s words were what he’d wanted to hear for years.  
“I’m s-s-s-orry, De-an, I-I am s-so weak,” he sobs harder, his breathing pick up slightly and he falls into the hunters lap, putting his hands over his face, which is face down on Dean legs.  
“No, no you’re not, c’mon look at me-“ he demands sweetly, lifting him up so that they’re face to face. He pulls him too close, forcing the hunter to blush and his heart to race. “You’re not weak, you’re the strongest soul I know and I know it’s hard sometimes but you gotta let me in, you have to let me help you, I just, I want to be here for you.”   
Cas can feel Dean’s warm breath on his lips with every word, and it’s sooo tempting. Castiel’s face becomes hot and red to match the man in front of him. His anxiety attack has passed and now all he can think about what Dean tastes like. How it would feel to brush his lips against his. He inches slightly closer, and Dean can’t resist any longer, he drags his hand up to his fallen angels ear, and just when he’s about to kiss him, a voice in his head taunts him.  
‘yeah, kiss him faggot. Be a little bitch.”  
Dean flips out and forces his hand off and darts out of the room, leaving Cas to dwell in his confusion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had many anxiety attacks, none recently, but I know everyone is different when it comes to anxiety, but that was my impression on it.


	5. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlies In Town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to put a Trigger warning and it's kinda graphic, so if that's not your style, skip this chapter.

Dean realizes the second he’s out of the room he’s made a mistake, he knew what he wanted, it was obvious Cas wanted it too. In his deep begrudging thoughts, he slams directly into Sam, causing a coffee mug to smash in to pieces on the ground, his papers flying.  
“Dean! What the heck man!” He groans, toughing his head back, his mighty long hair flying all over the place. He knells down to pick it up.  
“Can I talk to you? I’ll clean that later..” He grabs Sam’s arm and drags him along all the way down the hall, up the stairs, through the escape hatch and on to the roof.  
“What’s this even about!?” Sam jerks his arm back as he says this, “What’s so important.”  
Dean paces, trying to form the words in his mouth.  
“Spit it out!”   
“You’re not making this any easier for me, I’m freaking out!”  
“What’s wrong?”  
“I uhm, well, we, uh, I, well it was Cas too, I mean nothing actually happened, but it might’ve and-“  
“And what? You wanted it too? This isn’t important news, this is OLD news. Dean, just fucking face it, you’re in love with Cas and you’re not gonna be happy until you do something about it. So go do something about it! Knowing you, you probably just fucked things up big time so go fix it before it’s too late.”  
“A-are, are you sure?” he whimpers uncertain. Sam puts his hand on the shorter brother and pats his shoulder.  
“Go get em’ tiger.”  
Dean scurries off, forcing Sam to chuckle at the younger brothers enthusiasm.  
+  
Dean sees Cas sitting exactly in the same place he was, obviously over thinking his confusion.  
“Cas!” Dean demands. He lifts his head slowly. Dean goes over and pulls him too his feet, pulling him into a close intimate hug. He gives in to all his desires and leans his head onto the fallen angels shoulder. Cas wraps his arms around Dean nervously. Dean pulls his hands up to the angels neck, lifting his own head up. This time, he was going to do it right. He stares into the baby blue eyes with flames of desire swallowing his mind. He smirks slightly, and his stomach turns with butterflies. He pulls Cas in abruptly and tenderly, passionately kisses him, closing his eyes. After the initial shock, Cas lets himself move into it. He closes his eyes and kisses back, pulling them closer together. Dean lowers his hand and grabs Castiel’s, entwining their fingers and squeezing lightly and lovingly.   
Sam walks by sneakingly, peering into the room with a giddy smile.  
“I knew it!” he whispers under his breath before trotting away.  
Castiel’s mind is racing, his anxieties seeming to melt away as the hunter holds him. He feels safe, but still his thought will creep up to haunt him, he’s sure. He pushes those thoughts down.  
Though neither of them want to stop (ever), Cas breaks away from the intense kissing to gasp for air.  
“You’re supposed to breathe through your nose,” Dean snorts, chuckling at the fallen angel hacking up a storm.  
“I apologize, Dean, perhaps I need practice,” he retorts as his coughing dies down. Dean plants another kiss before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen, where a bright smiling face meets his eyes, then the angels, the stares humorously at their interlocked hands.  
“I see I’ve missed a lot,” she chimes.  
“Shut up Carlie,” Sam whispers in her ear, nudging her arm, “This only happened a few minutes ago. You know how Dean is.”  
And Sam was right because when he looks back over, the older hunter had separated their hands. Freaking great. His face is bright red and Charlie’s happiness turns to guilt. Dean and Cas take a seat next to each other at the table, Charlie and Sam sitting on the opposite side. Castiel can’t help but eye the knife sitting on the table longingly. It’s a desire that has been crossing his mind for some time now, it’s so tempting. Dean wraps his hand around Cas’ under the table, and it breaks his stare.  
“What brings you here, Charles?” Dean asks, trying to get rid of the awkward silence.  
“I was on my way to tell you when you knocked me over- for the record, I had to clean it up cause you never got around to it!” Sam grumbles.  
“That was only a half hour ago, if that!”  
“Boys, boys, no need to fight. I’m just on vacation.” Charlie cuts in before they can actually start getting into it.  
“Well, I’m not sure how you can call the bunker a vacation. Why don’t we take a drive to Vegas or something?” Dean offers.  
“That sounds like a great idea, Dean.” Sam agrees.  
“I’m in, how bout you Cas?”  
“I shall stay and watch over the bunker.”  
Everyone stares confused, waiting for him to explain himself but he doesn’t.  
“If you’re not going, none of us are, we’ll just stay here and rent movies or something,” Charlie declares. “I also have Netflix, so we can just watch that.”  
“That’s fine,” Dean and Sam agree.  
“Okay, boys.” Charlie claps her hands together with a big smile, “Dean, you’re in charge of food, Sam, you’re in charge of helping me plug my laptop into the TV, I have this special chord thingy. And Cas, you get comfy pillows and blankets from around the bunker.” She pauses for anticipation, “Ready….GO!”  
Dean and Sam look at each other, then run to the places they need to be, while Cas mopes to his room to grab his favorite fluffy blanket Dean got him when he first moved in. He grabs a few others, then goes in Sam’s room to grab them, because she did say ALL of the blankets and pillows. He grabs them and piles them on top, then walks carefully to the library where this was all going down. He heads back down the hall to get Dean’s pillows and stuff when he stops and sees a stack of pictures under where his pillow once was. It was pictures of them over the years, all of the one’s that Castiel were in. And neither of them noticed before, but they always stood right next to each other, shoulder to shoulder. It made him smile. He places the pillow neatly how he found it, over the pictures, so Dean wouldn’t know of he saw them, grabbed the other pillows and all the blankets, piling them on the others when he gets to the library.  
“Awesome Cas, we’ve got the TV all set up so I’ll just form those into a bed, we’re just waiting on the food now.” Charlie explains. Cas quickly picks up the melon colored ‘Dean Blanket’ from the pile and snuggles it slightly. The intuitive female picks up on this, and makes his part of the bed with the fallen angels comforter to lay on, Dean’s blanket to cover with, his pillow to lay on and also one of Sam’s to make it look less suspicious. Castiel watches carefully as he uses Dean’s comforter to be Sam’s bed, and vice versa. Dean gets Castiel’s blanket and pillow and Sam get’s his own, but he doesn’t complain and lays down immediately in his spot to force the boys to lay in Charlie’s special little creation. Charlie uses all her own blankets and lays them down Next to Cas’ spot. Dean’s was next to Cas’ and Sam’s on the end in the other side of Dean. The TV was on a stand in front of them. Dean walks in and blushes immediately when he sees the seating arrangement, but doesn’t complain and takes the bait, but not before passing out the popcorn and cookies from the other day and some candy he found in the cupboards. Sam starts the movie they picked, which was Dumb & Dumber. As the movie goes on, Cas and Dean get closer together, eventually holding hands under the blanket. But Cas’ mind is elsewhere. That knife is still sitting on the table, just laying there, no one would even notice it’s absence. He tries to shake it out of his mind, tries to enjoy his time spent with the group and the movie playing, but his mind just can’t focus on that right now.  
“I must use the restroom,” he declares, parting his hand from the eldest hunters and walks solemnly out of the room. He makes sure he’s not followed, and sneaks off to the kitchen. He slips the knife in his pants, tucked behind his shirt. He tries to talk himself out of it but the craving is too strong. He tip toes back to his room and nearly shuts the door, but not all the way because the doors of the bunker seem to make an unnecessary amount of sound. He sits cross-legged, his back to the door just in case. He grabs some tissues and sits them next to him before eagerly retrieving the knife. At first he just grazes it across his skin. The next time he pushes slightly harder. Harder. Harder. DEEPER, until blood drain down his arm. The way humans feel pain is different than anything he’s ever experience— and he loves it. He repeats his action until he feels it consume him, and that was enough for one day. He hides the knife under his mattress, wrapping his arm in tissues and pulling down his sleeve to hide his guilty pleasure.   
He heads back down to the library, his left wrist destroyed and burning, and Castiel has a wicked smile on his face. Dean’s on his right, so he doesn’t even have to worry about him noticing. His wounds are deep, but his mind is finally free to enjoy the movie in peace.


	6. Dark Side of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PLEEEEEAAAASSSSEEEEE listen to the full album Dark Side of the Moon to fully understand this chapter. (you can listen to it at -> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kom0r3U8V8s).
> 
> This chapter is my favorite so far, but I also must warn you that it does have the usage of marijuana. Why? Because Dean says in many episodes he smokes it, but I have yet to find a fan fiction where he does.
> 
> Also, I guess I was writing longer than I expected and The Wall started playing and I put a few of those songs in by accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kom0r3U8V8s

Castiel wakes up the next day in his own bed, unsure of how he got there. His arm has shooting pains in it, Cas looks down with half open eyes noticing that the lazy bandages were gone, his arm clean of all dried blood. His stomach drops.  
“Dean’s gonna freak out when he sees that, and it’s only a matter of time before he does,” a voice says, coming from the chair in the corner. Sam. “You, Dean and Charlie fell asleep last night so I hulled your asses to your bedroom and cleaned everything up. But I noticed something when I flopped you onto the bed. Your sleeve got pushed up, and you should know the rest. So, and honestly Cas, why?”  
Castiel shrugs, not looking at him. Sam sighs, approaching him carefully. He pulls down his sleeve, a heavy knot in his throat. His words were not mean, only true. But why had Cas done this? He liked to tell himself because it helped, but truthfully it just felt good.  
“I made pancakes, Dean and Charlie are still passed out. I’m not gonna tell them because people make mistakes and your family, Cas, I know you’re hurting. But if it gets worse I’m gonna need to do anything I can to help you before you take this too far. Okay?”  
Cas nods, looking down at his hands, glancing over at his still uncovered wrist and quickly yanks his sleeve back down, and replies weakly, “I’m not hungry.” Sam hangs his head and goes to wake everyone else up before the food gets cold.  
-  
Dean sits at the table rubbing his hands together about to dig in when it occurs to him.  
“Hey where’s Cas?” he asks before stuffing his mouth with bacon. Sam refuses to lock eyes, which is an easy tell for Dean.  
“He’s still asleep.”  
“He didn’t want to come out, did he?” the hunter sighs, but continues to quickly devour his food. Charlie barely listens, but instead lazily props her head up with her hand reminiscing on her odd dream. Pancakes, bacon and syrup are neatly placed onto a plate by the older brother. He carries them off to Cas’ room, knocking on the door. He hears shifting inside and it takes a while for him to answer.  
“Oh, hello Dean,” Castiel greets nervously. He then notices the food. “I’m not hungry.”  
“Can I at least come sit?”  
“Uhhh,” Cas tries to come up with a reason to not let him in, but truthfully there is none unless he’s hiding something. Which he is. Blood stained tissues are spread carelessly atop his bed, the knife laid out and still sticky with crimson. He was careful to keep his Dean Blanket clean by putting on the chair that Sam had sat in earlier. He closes the door in Dean’s face with a quick, “Hold on!” Everything blood stained gets thrown into the trash with a couple non-stained tissues on top to hide them, the knife gets returned to under the mattress and he runs back to the door, letting Dean in. The hunter scans the room for reasoning behind this action, but finds none.  
“Uh. hey. Can I talk to you?” Dean sets the plate of food on the nightstand, just in case he’ll nibble on it later.  
“What about?” he asks innocently, but inside he’s freaking out that Sam told him. The hunter sits on the bed and pats the spot beside him, beaconing the fallen angel to come sit. He obeys, as always. His head is hung low.  
“About the other day… about your anxiety attack…” he dare not look the fallen angel in the eyes, for the hunter knows if he does he will only see sorrow and pain and emptiness. “You’re only gonna have more if you don’t get some sort of help, so, uh, I was thinking that the first step you should take is to talk about your problems…uh… with me. And then you should go talk to Sam about what anxiety is and ways to cope with it and live with it, okay?”  
“Dean, I do not wish to bother you with my brooding thoughts,” he chokes, tears welding in his eyes.  
“Look man,” Dean puts his hand on Cas’, “don’t stress over it. Why don’t you talk to Sam first?”  
“No Dean…it’s okay,” he sighs deeply, taking his band back from under the eldest hunters and folding it in his lap. He focuses on the interesting stripped colored socks covering his feet, trying hard to breathe slowly and steadily. The thought of knives and razors crowd his brain, it’s as if he’s seeing red-- and the red is his own blood. He tries desperately to think happy thoughts but he knows that does nothing for him. Dean watches him, seeing his breathing get heavier, he knows he’s trying not to cry and it kills him. He puts his hand on his back and leans his shoulder against the man.  
“Cas… I think I have something that can help you…” he grins mischievously and grabs his hand, pulling them both up.  
Cas follows behind Dean, giving the appearance of him being dragged down the hall. They travel all the way up to the attic, and the hunter snickers with a wide goofy smile. He pulls out a rather smelly box, and opens it slowly, being careful nothing drops out. Castiel observes his surroundings— a Pink Floyd poster, a box as a table and two chairs. One for Sam, one for Dean, he presumes correctly. On the table is an ash tray- but the boys don’t smoke? Dean sits down and pulls out a small metal cylinder* from the mysterious box. Next he pulls out a small card board rectangle that says ‘Bob Marley’ and was Rastafarian colors* It took till he began to pull out the bag for it to click in the fallen angels brain.  
“Dean, you want me to smoke marijuana?” he asks with a gasp, staring at the beautiful green leaves in the bag, coated with TCH*. Cas had never smoked before, but had watched humans do it for years. He saw nothing wrong with it and he knew the boys had smoked before, Dean has even done LSD* once.  
“No, my friend, I was US to smoke marijuana.” He rolls a joint expertly and grabs a lighter from his pocket. Castiel chuckles because it’s the same lighter he would use to set a body on fire. This was so natural to the boy he didn’t think a thing of it as he sparked it up, hit it twice, then passed it to the new human. “Two rules, don’t hit it harder than you can handle, and never, NEVER, take a joint from a guy named Don.”  
It hits the back of his throat with a hard sting, but he continues to pull it into his lungs regardless. Before he could even exhale the weed he begins a coughing fit. Dean laughs and hands him a water bottle from behind the ‘table’. It helps, but not that much. When he finally finishes his conniption, he decides he might as well take another hit. Cause why not? Even if it did harm his body, it didn’t matter to him anymore. Pain of any kind made him feel better. He deserves it, he thinks- he needs it. He passes it back to Dean with a weak smile.  
“That’s ma’ boy!” Dean laughs, getting up to sit on the ground at Castiel’s feet. They both blush and look away, and then start to laugh. Dean hits the J* and passes it and vice versa until its roached*, and they have to put it out. At this point both of the boys are feeling something good. Castile loves it… maybe a bit too much. The rooms a bit wonky, and he falls in love with the poster. Dean catches his stare and takes his hand. “C’mon, lets go to my room.” Dean offers. Cas tries to hold back his smile and nods his head, following him by his side now to the room, hand in hand. Dean opens the door for him, but then lets go of his hand. The hunter has a huge smile on his face, and he practically skips to the record player.  
“One of my favorite albums. I find I can’t stop listening to it lately.” He pulls the arm to the right then sets it on the now spinning record. A heartbeat begins to surround the room with it’s endless beating, and people being to talk in the background. It gets weirder and then- BAM. Amazing.  
Dean smirks, turns around, and runs head on at Castiel. Cas tries to back up, his perception way off, his heat beating faster and faster. The back of his knees meet the edge of the bed and the hunter tackles him playfully onto it. The hunters own heat beat fills his ears, blood pumping violently through his THC filled veins. He stays on top of Cas for as long as he can, but he begins to slip of the bed, so he stands up and crawls back on the bed, laying next to Castiel, who shifts himself further toward dean and lays on his back. The music is so loud it could fill the whole bunker. The was no use in talking, which made it easier for the boys to shift closer….and closer…. and closer until Dean is laying on Castiel’s chest, staring deeply into his ocean blue eyes despite the fact that they are still glued to the ceiling. He chuckles because his eyes looks like spider man, blue and bright red, his lids heavy. His gut wrenches but he can’t help but hope that the fallen angel will look back down at him and see him staring, yet the second he does look down Dean shifts his eyes away nervously. He can feel the angels sigh fill his toned chest. Dean, laying on his side, shifts even closer to his profoundly bonded friend so that his leg and torso are draped lazily over him. His head is now next to Castiel’s. He can feel the now humans’ heartbeat heavy against his chest. The fact that it’s beating as fast as his calms him down. He knows he wants this too, he’s just scared he doesn’t want it as bad as he does. The day he met the angel he fell in love with the idea of him, but as time went on, he realized he wasn’t in love with the idea. He was in love with him. Granted, it didn’t take him long to figure that out, but it’s taken him long enough to figure out that it’s okay. That this will make him happy and it’s okay. In fact, it’s awesome. He thought he could wish away the feelings, cover them up and fill them with other men and women along the way. But he always knew that it was Cas he wanted. Even when Cas was dead or missing he KNEW. He knew that he’d never fully get over him, or get over him at all. He hated when people called him gay though. Because he isn’t. He’s bisexual, he’s always loved women, but in his heart he’s always loved men more. He had convinced himself that the cheap motel sex and one night stands with guys didn’t mean or prove anything. Guys just ‘knew what they were doing’ was the reason he told himself as he stared into the eyes of another man. But it was different with Cas. Cas made all his stupid excuses disappear, and replaced them with hope and joy and mercy. Something he had never felt before. But that’s what he saw when he looked at his fallen angel. He is more than family to Dean. He is everything to Dean. But Dean fears that Castiel does not love him this way, or perhaps at all.  
He doesn’t hear what Castiel says, but he hears it rumble through his chest like the purr of a kitten. A black haired, blue eyed kitten. Dean pushes himself up on his elbow and puts his ear closer to Cas’ mouth.  
“Dean.” he repeats to ease his confusion. Dean lifts his free hand, trailing it slowly and lovingly up his chest, cupping his hand around his neck and ever so temptingly drags it up and plays with his hair. He raises his head, looking lovingly into the eyes that now meet his. He— awkwardly, but he’s still incredibly stoned so he doesn’t really care that much and lets out and “Oof!”— repositions himself completely onto him, one leg on either side. He sits on the fallen angels stomach, but slides down until their chest to chest, groin to groin, legs tangled and half off the bed. The new humans breath hitches, and Dean gulps.  
Cas doesn’t care how far they go, he doesn’t much care about anything at all. Dean seems to be the only light in his darkness, and yes Charlie and Sam are wonderful, but nobody has influence over him like Dean does. Dean on the other hand, wanted to take things slow. He was still, yes after five years, wrapping his head around this whole ‘being in love with another guy’ thing. It scared the hunter to kiss him because of how much he CRAVES it, how much he thinks about it and now it’s actually happening and he doesn’t know what to think! It’s so much better than he ever imagined. True, Castiel cannot kiss worth shit, but the hunter is convinced he’s never kissed anyone better at it. It’s too much for him, so he takes it slow. Very slow. But Mother comes on, and that tempo matches his mood, but overwhelms him with desire and grief and envy. Dean pushes the memories of his mother down and focuses on the here and the now. She’d want him to be happy. And ya know what? He is. The hunter leans onto his left arm, the arm with the hand that’s playing endlessly with Castiel’s hair. This causes him to be heavier on the other man’s chest, but neither mind. He takes his ‘angels' hand into his, which is now free, and brings it up to his mouth. He kisses it softly. Empty Spaces is playing now and it matches the boys anxiousness and angst. He sets his hand back down at his side, but instead Castiel bring the hand up to hold his side. His long fingers reached the small of the hunters back and it sent chills up his spine and it felt like he was whole again. He traces his fingers along the fallen angels thigh and then up to his collar bones, watching how it stroke crumpled and scrunched the dirty grey t-shirt he was wearing. His eyes flicker down and see that the fallen angels eyes are closed. Perfect. He slowly and gently twist his head so that his nose almost touches Cas’. Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying hard not to smile. He leans down slowly and plants a kiss on Castiel’s lips. He goes to pull away, but Cas’ grip on him tightens, and he kisses him back, passionately and sloppily like a child. Again, Dean tries not to smile. Dean matches his amateur kisses with his own, and then softly bites his lip. The sensation Castiel feels is devine, it shoots up his spine and branches out through every part of his body, even parts he’d never felt before. It scared him, but he didn’t care. He loved it, all of it, the music, the kissing, the touching, even the silence. It really did make it easier to not have to say a word, they didn’t have to risk talking about their feelings or saying the wrong thing. But in all reality, no words need to be said. Even in silence, it is comforting for them to be in each others presence. It’s a warm silence, unlike the awkward silences he often finds in talking to anyone else now a days. He just wants to be alone. Or alone with Dean. Time is lost and neither really know how long they’ve been kissing until the album ends. Dean breaks away and sits up.  
“It’s 9:30.” he sighs. “I gotta sleep man, and so do you, okay? And oh, by the way, don’t tell Sam we smoked his pot!”  
The hunter and the fallen angel laugh, coming down from their high. Castiel nods and sighs, getting up to leave the room. Dean stops him and twists him around, kissing him shyly. When the angel leaves, he shuts the door and drags his feet back to the bed. He flops onto his back, letting out a breathy giggle, he lips sore and tingly, the taste of the other man still in his mouth. Joyous thoughts filled his brain and bursted though his system, but still a hint of tumorous guilt grew menacingly by in the background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******  
> The first * is the metal cylinder, or Grinder, that you grind your weed with.  
> Next it *the rectangular box, which is the papers Dean used to roll the joint. I used the Bob Marley papers because their chemical free and made with hemp (or cannibis, the plant marijuana comes from.)  
> *THC is the chemical compound in marijuana that makes you get high.  
> *LSD is most commonly referred to as ‘acid’, ‘Lucy’, or ‘love.’ This drug releases two DANGEROUS chemicals in your brain that make you get an intense body high and hallucinations or ‘visuals.’  
> Uhm okay next is *J which is literally just a shorter way to say joint, which is just marijuana wrapped in paper, like a cigarette.  
> Lastly is *roached. A roach is the end of a joint that you either, can’t hold onto anymore cause it’s too hot or some other reason that makes you put it out. You can save the joint and put it in a pipe or ‘bowl’ if you like, which Dean does in my story, or throw it out, like Sam will later in my story (which irks Dean, *spoilers*)  
> *I didn’t mark this, but in case you don’t know what it means to be ‘stoned’ or ‘baked’ it just means that you’re incredibly high.


	7. Down & Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam chats with Cas while Dean and Charlie head out to the store.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was a bit lazy with the middle of this chapter, I'll admit.

Charlie and Sam had spent the previous day playing video games and snickering about the fact that Cas and Dean were missing all day. Neither of them knew what happened, but they both had quite graphic theories. Some were too graphic for Sam’s liking when discussing this, causing him to feel ill despite his laughter. They had made both lunch and dinner for everyone yesterday, but neither of the lovebirds decided to show. So they weren’t exactly surprised when they both showed up to breakfast extra early.  
“You should cook! We cooked all yesterday!” Sam protests when Dean asks where breakfast is. He groans but puts up no fight, for he was in a very good mood due to prior events. He whips up a batch of pancakes and lots and LOTS of bacon. It doesn’t take him much time to cook, so he joins them again shortly with a big plate of flapjacks. Charlie and Sam get first pick, Dean and Cas split the rest. Castiel is being his usual down self.  
From the moment he left Dean’s room, his sadness had returned. He spent all night crying and cutting. Dean could tell he’d gotten no sleep, and he hadn’t even gotten to really talk to him yesterday. He sighs into his bacon and looks up at the fallen angel, then to Charlie and Sam.  
“Hey Charlie, you wanna go to the store with me? We’re running low on supplies.” Dean offers.   
“Yeah, I’m down. I gotta get dressed though, I look like an ugly hobbit that woke up on the wrong side of the bed.” Charlie responds. Dean then nods Sam to follow him into the hallway. Castiel and Charlie make small talk in the kitchen, both slyly watching the door to the hallway, hoping to hear what’s going on. Unfortunately for them, Dean goes far, far down the hallway.  
“How was your day with Cas yesterday?” Sam teases.  
“It was really great, but that’s not why I dragged you out here.” The older hunter huffs.  
“So why did you?”  
“While me and Charlie are at the store, can you talk to Cas about anxiety attacks and stuff?”  
“Yeah, man. I’ll see what I can do. But try to take your time incase we get into a good conversation. We have to try to help him as much as we can, so I’ll just text you when it’s safe, okay?” They agree on the strategy and Dean heads off to the store with Charlie, leaving Sam to hopefully do some good.  
*  
Dean decides if he's at the store he might as well actually get some food. He had quite a bit of cash let over from a poker game a week ago. He gets all the essentials; eggs, milk, cheese, butter, pie, Sam's rabbit food, etc. Sadly, this takes no more than fifteen minutes. They decide to hang out at a coffee shop, but Deans not super clear on why.  
"We've been done with our coffee for fifteen minutes Dean, why can't we go home?" Charlie complains.  
"We just can't, okay?!" Dean counters, fed up with her whining. To Dean she is like an incredibly annoying little sister. She rolls her eyes in response.  
"If something's going on, you can tell me. I'm gonna be staying quite a while anyways." She says crossing her arms. Dean sighs, holding his head up with the palm of his hand. Charlie can see the worry in his eyes. "Is something wrong with Cas?"  
"Nothing is wrong with him!" He blurts, a little too defensive.  
"I know that, I meant, well, is he okay?" The redhead uses a soothing voice and puts her hand on his arm. Dean lets out the huge breath he was holding and his body relaxes. He shuts his eyes tight as if to try to erase whatever image his mind was seeing.  
"I don't know. He won't talk to me, I mean I know he's not but he would never tell me."  
"You were the same way, in fact I bet you still are Deany-weany. You bottle everything up. So he does the same? Is it really that bad?"  
Dean refuses to make eye contact.  
"Oh." The girl sighs, patting his arm and then taking her hand back.  
"He's been having anxiety attacks all the time lately. Even last night, even after everything that happe-" he cuts himself of and clears his throat. "I heard him last night, his room is down the hall and I heard him sobbing."  
"Why didn't you do anything?"  
"I didn't want the poor guy to get embarrassed and hate himself more." Dean shakes his head weakly putting his face into his hands, but lifting them quickly so he himself doesn't become an embarrassed wreck.  
"I see," the young women answers, not knowing what else to say. "Do you want me to talk to him?"  
"If things are going as planned, that's what Sam's doing right now."  
"I could talk to him later tonight too if you want."  
"I don't wanna overwhelm the guy."  
"Alright."  
"Could you maybe see if you can in a couple days?" Dean asks, sounding like a sad, lost puppy.  
"Of course," she smiles. "But you're buying me another coffee while I wait!"  
-*-  
Castiel tries to escape confrontation ahead of time by sneaking off to his room before Sam can make it back to the kitchen. Sam had accounted for this, and instead of going to the kitchen, went to Cas' room, and is waiting for him there. Cas opens the door and his heart drops. Sam was staring at the bloody razor on the bed. Castiel closes his eyes and tries to pretend that Sam isn't there, he tries to wish him away. If he was an angel he could wipe his memory of this, but not anymore. Everything in him wants to run away, but he knows it's no use. Sam looks over at the new human sadly, waiting for him to enter the room. Cas sits on the chair in the corner and stares at his socks again. This time they were just white.  
"Can we talk?" Sam says with a very calm, approachable voice.  
"No," Castiel tries.  
"My bad, I should've said, 'we need to talk.'" Sam sighs, sitting criss-cross on the floor looking up at Cas.  
"About the cutti-"  
"We'll get to that later, okay?" Sam decides. Castiel sighs in relief, but a knot of anxiety is still tangled in his chest. "First, I want to explain to you what's been happening to your body and your mind okay?"  
Cas nods weakly.  
"I've been observing you carefully lately, and it seems to me that we are very much alike mentally. You see, uhm, I have these disorders, alright, and they're called 'depression' and 'anxiety.' Dean tell me you've been having anxiety attacks lately?"  
"I do not know." Cas answers simply.  
"Okay, well, have you had times where you're mind goes in the gutter and you maybe can't breathe?"  
The new human sighs and nods again.  
"Those are anxiety attacks."  
A tear forms on the bottom rim his eye before trickling down his cheek. "They hurt s-so bad." He confesses, his voice breaking.  
"It's okay, it's gonna be alright. I have to deal with the same thing and it gets better, okay? You need to find ways to pull yourself out of an attack."  
"Okay, Sam." He replies in a small voice. He still refuses eye contact.  
"Next is Depression. Common symptoms are not sleeping or sleeping too much, racing thoughts, lack of motivation, isolation, and feelings of worthlessness."  
Cas closes his eyes and pretends that it doesn't describe him perfectly.  
Sam continues, "you need to talk to somebody about what's bothering you. That's one of the best ways of dealing with depression. Another is finding healthy ways to cope with your sadness. Truth is, depression never truly goes away. I still sit in my room for hours brooding away the time, but I found better way to deal with it than cutting." Cas doesn't say anything, so he pushes on. "Can I see your wrist?" The new human doesn't move. Sam sighs and takes the mans arm into his and pulls up the sleeve. Cas winces, closing his eyes refusing to see Sam's reaction. His arm is torn and red and gashed deeply up and down it. But Sam doesn't react at all.   
"Can I show you something?" He asks, pulling his sleeve back down and rolling his own up. He walks over to the light and holds his wrist under it. "Come look, don't be scared." Cas drags his feet over to him, but gasps when he sees the endless amount of scars on Sam's wrist. "I was there once too, okay? Don't tell Dean. I'm his little brother and he'd only blame himself."  
"Sam, if you did it why can't i?"  
"I know better know. If I see a fresher wound I'm telling Dean and that's the end of it." Castiel wants badly to tell him off, to try to convince him to let him harm himself, but that's obviously a waste of time. He tries a different approach.  
"Can you do me a favor and not tell Dean?"  
"That depends..." The young hunter replies skeptically. Cas gets up and leans in close, whispering his desire.  
"Oh that? Sure I can get that!" Sam chuckles. He pulls out his phone and texts Dean he is able to return and then looks up a man that can help him with the fallen angels request.  
*  
“We’re doing something fun tonight and NOBODY,” the eldest hunter looks directly at Cas upon saying this, pauses, and then continues, “is getting out of it. I was thinking we go out and see a movie or even just go for drive somewhere and watch the stars like we used to!”  
“Dean…me and Cas have never taken 'a drive somewhere’ to ‘watch the stars,’” Charlie points out, cheerfully yet sarcastically. Castiel stirs slightly in his seat, trying not to smile as he fantasizes about sitting on the hood of the impala with Dean, cuddled with a blanket and silently watching the stars.  
“She’s right man, plus sometimes I miss the days when it was just you and me on the road. Fighting monsters, saving lives! I know it was risky and it was hard, but it felt so natural. I felt alive. And that’s when I felt the closest to you.” Sam gushes. It was a statement his younger self would hate him for, but that’s not who he is.  
“Aw c’mon man. Really? No chick flick moments!” the older brother grunts in embarrassment.  
“Jerk.”  
“Bitch.”  
“So it’s settled then?” Charlie chimes in, causing both men to smile.  
“Baby’s been craving a longer ride than into town or around this awful state. I know just where I want to go, and you know I’m driving.”  
They finish they’re dinner talking about all the plans and details and what they should bring; i.e. heavier jackets in case it’s cold, extra clothes because it will take them a few days to get there, alcohol, pie, only the essentials. Sam’s in charge of dishes tonight so the other go and pack. It’s gonna be a long night.


	8. The Open Road

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They begin their road trip to watch the stars.

They’ve been on the road about four hours now, the music blasting and everyone on a short break from talking. Castiel is sitting in the back seat with his back to the door, his feet on the seat in only socks so Dean doesn’t fuss and he’s holding his legs. His chin is settled on his knees and he tries his hardest not to bury his head in his hands. Cas had gone on a few hunts with the boys when he was an angel and he would occasionally take the long way by driving instead of flying, but his wings have burnt off in the fall, so he has no other option. His anxiety is going crazy, the knot in his chest returning. He couldn’t wait to get to the motel they were stopping at to get what Sam had got him so he could sneak out. He also made sure he brought a few razors, just in case.  
Nobody knows mental health issues like Sam. It was one thing when he would get anxiety attacks or have his depression flare up or even when he cut himself. That was a mouse to the elephant of spending a year in hell and then having the wall Death put up broken. Nobody knew what it’s like to see Lucifer himself and to have him break you down and destroy everything you think is real until you literally have to be saved by an angel. An angel who happened to be Castiel. Sam is not surprised at the new humans disorders, he had been through so much. And on top of that, he had taken on the effects of Sam’s mind after his wall was broken by the same angel who fixed it. Castiel still beats himself up for that, still wishes to be in purgatory to pay for his sins. Being on the road in the passenger seat next to Dean was home for the younger brother. It’s all he’s ever known. This car has been totaled and smashed but still Dean rebuilds it every time. He rebuilds their home. Sam stares happily at the open road, reading all the signs on the side or above the road. Dean, too, wears a giddy smile, excited to take them all over the country to his favorite places. They weren’t going home until Dean was satisfied and tired of driving, which would probably be the rest of the week and a half Charlie was planning on visiting. He wasn’t sure yet how long he planned on this trip taking, but that was the beauty of it. It’s what he’s loved most about the job since he was little- traveling around the country and seeing all it has to offer, no deadlines, no destination, no limits.  
“What’s got you boys so smiley?” Charlie ponders aloud.  
“The open road,” Dean lilted, patting his hands on the wheel.  
“Pretty much,” Sam agrees.  
“That’s really great and all, but are we stopping at a hotel soon?” the young woman grumbles, laying down on her side using the fallen angels feet as a pillow. Cas welcomes the warmth and curls his toes.  
“It’s in about five miles if I remember correctly.” Dean answers.  
*  
It’s only about ten minutes till they reach the hotel, but Charlie and Castiel are asleep in the backseat. Dean can’t help admire through the mirror how cute he looks, crumbled in the sweatshirt he let him borrow leaning against the back of the seat with his mouth gapped open. Sam gets out and shuts his door quietly and waits for his older brother to do the same.  
“Wanna go get the rooms and then wake them?” Sam offers in a low tone. Dean nods and they head inside.  
“Two rooms?” Dean asks his little brother.  
“That makes the most sense. Two rooms each with two beds, me and Cas in one, you and Charlie in the other?” Sam asks, just to see if he’ll have the balls to ask to sleep in the same room as Cas. Though he also wants to keep an eye on Cas and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.  
“That makes the most sense,” he huffs as he walks up to the desk man and gets there key, paying with one of their many fake credit cards.  
They walk back out to the sleepyheads and Dean knocks on Cas’ window. The fallen angel stirs, doing his best to stretch in the little space he has before coming to his senses. The gets out of the car, careful not to hurt Charlie when taking his feet back. Sam then opens the females door and picks her up princess style, carrying her into Dean’s room and laying her on the bed furthest from the door, then heads to his own room, where Castiel is struggling to roll a joint. He crosses his arms and slumps impatiently into the ugly puke green chair in the corner of this awful motel.  
“Want some help with that?” the younger hunter asks, seeing his despair. "I’ll teach how to roll so next time you wanna ask me for weed you don’t end up not able to smoke it.”  
Castiel chuckles under his breath, waiting anxiously for Sam to finish so he can escape his mind for a while. When he does, he licks it shut and sits in the matching chair next to Cas. He was hesitant to sit down at first upon seeing a big rip in the center of the cushion revealing the stained spongy material beneath. He shakes his head in disgust, but finally sits down anyways. He pulls out a light from his pocket and places the joint between his lips and lights it with ease. He was in college once, after all. He hits it twice then passes, proceeding to pull out his phone.  
“Dean hates me for listening to this kind of music,” Sam snickers while pulling up the Youtube app and typing in his favorite dubstep song.  
Castiel is careful to hit the joint lightly this time, then again, and passes it.  
“I like this song,” Castiel admits a few seconds after the beat drops. Sam taps his fingers on his knee to the beat.  
“Me too.”  
It’s about 15 minutes till the boys finish the joint. It’s quite… save the music. Sam wants badly to end the awkward silence, but isn’t quiet sure what to say, but luckily, Castiel beats him to the punch.  
“Thanks for getting this Sam,” the man says solemnly.  
“Why don’t you want me to tell Dean?” Moose replies curiously.  
“I don’t think he smokes as much as I intend to,” he says simple.  
“How much do you intend on smoking?” he asks worried  
He pauses, but answers anyways. “I want to smoke everyday.”  
“Why?”  
“I just like it.”  
“Oh,” the hunter sighs. “Well I guess there isn’t any harm in it, as long as you can keep it under control.”  
Sam had little faith that the new human could actually keep it under control, but if he’s going through Sam himself then he can monitor the man. He decides it’s for the best to just change the subject and move on. “How’s it going with Dean?”  
Castiel’s face immediately perks up, both from the high and from the thought of his love. A giddy smile paints itself ear to ear, and he giggles like a child.  
“Well, I guess,” Sam laughs.  
“I am never sad when I am with him,” he admits.  
“That’s great, man. I’m glad. You deserve to be happy.” He regrets his words as they are coming out. The fallen angel’s warm smile turns into a sad frown.  
“After all I’ve done, I don’t even deserve to be alive.”  
“Don’t you ever, EVER, say that Castiel, you understand? Every time you died or disappeared I was forced to watch as my brother suffered months of unending drinks and severe depression. You mean so much to both of us, even to Charlie. We need you, I need you, but most of all… Dean needs you. You do deserve to be alive, and you definitely deserve to be happy. You’ve given all you can, and now it’s time to just be happy.”  
Castiel sighs, putting his head in his hands. Sam had never seen him this vulnerable, this broken and defeated. Sam walks over to his bag and pulls out another, older, phone. This time he pops off the top of it and pulls out a funny looking glass object. He fumbles with the container of the fake phone for minute, and the shoves it into the part of the object and walks over and sits back down.  
“You don’t always have to smoke joints, ya know. There’s these great things called bowls. Here- watch.” He puts his finger on a small hole on the side, later established to him as a ‘carb.’ He flicks the lighter, puts the bowl up to his lips and pulls as he lights the weed. “Make sure you suck in when you put the flame up to the pot, okay? It’s like sucking out of a straw.” He hands him the bowl and the lighter, and it takes a minute for him to figure it out. But when he does, he decides this is his new favorite way to smoke.  
“I like this way,” he expresses, handing it back to Sam. He was kind of smiling now, and that was good enough for the hunter. He hits it and passes it again, changing the music to Twenty One Pilots.  
“I really like this band, but Dean hates them. They got me through a lot of tough times,” he comments, not letting the talking end.  
“What song is this?” he asks, examining every single word.  
“Car Radio. It was the first song I heard by them, that’s why I played it.”  
Cas nods, making a mental note.  
“Do you have a favorite band?” he asks, not expecting an answer.  
“Pink Floyd,” he says, smiling at the thought of his day with Dean playing Dark Side of the Moon and a the first record of The Wall.  
“Yeah? Dean would be proud.”  
Castiel smiles like a 12 year old fangirl again, and takes the bowl from Sam, hits and, and passes it back.  
“It’s very pretty,” Cas chimes regarding the glass pipe. It was swirled with blue and lighter blue, the once see through glass covered on the inside with resign, but by no means dulling its beauty.  
“It was my first bowl, Dean got it for me as a gift when I started high school. I didn’t smoke weed until college, but I kept it for the sentiment. It ended up coming in handy though!” Sam hits it and passes it to Cas, then gets up again and goes to dig in his bag. He pulls out a small box with a ribbon tied sloppily around it. “I actually got you something. But you have to promise you won’t break it, okay?”  
Castiel nods his head, but his face wears a mask of confusion. Sam walks up to him and hands him the box. Cas scans it and then looks up at Sam. “Should I open it?” he asks, desperately wanting to know it’s contents.  
“Yeah!” he cheers, putting his hand reassuringly on the fallen angels back. It was till weird to him to see Castiel in tee shirts and jeans and sweatpants. But he was happy that he was at least wearing some comfortable clothing. He unwraps the bow slowly, then opens the box. Inside lie a orange and green patterned bowl, it was about the size of Sam’s, but it had a pot leaf made from glasswork on the stem. The pack* of the bowl was see through, but it was sure to turn black with resign as the fallen angel continues to smoke. As badly as he wants to try it out, he’s already really stoned. He can barely even think straight. He decides he would smoke a bowl in the morning before they continued their drive, which would make the experience a lot more bearable. Cas loved being on the road, but he can’t deny that the way Dean drive can make him car sick.   
“Thank you Sam,” he says sincerely, admire his new piece delicately in his hands.  
“Aw, it’s nothing. You’re family Cas.” he says, sitting back down. He doesn’t want to go to sleep until Castiel does, afraid of what he might do unsupervised. Or more specifically, he fears what he will do to himself.  
“Sam…” he starts nervously, “I really like Dean.”  
“He likes you too,” Sam replies with a smile.  
“No, I mean, I REALLY like him Sam.”  
“Are you saying you’re in love with my older brother, Cas?” the hunter taunts. Cas blushes and nods.  
“Do you think he loves me, too?”  
“Ya know what buddy? I really, really do.”  
His answer is very reassuring to the fallen angel, for nobody knows Dean like his little brother. He decides that he doesn’t need to cut tonight, and that he’s pretty sleepy.  
“Hey Sam, I think I’m going to try to get some sleep.”  
Sam gives him a worried smile, making himself coffee and doing research until he hears the quiet snoring of his dear friend. When his head hits the pillow, he’s out in a heartbeat. The four of them enjoying sweet slumber, and rest that they all desperately need. 

 

 

*a pack is where you put the weed in a bowl or bong.


End file.
